Ultimate Batman Fan Fiction Serial
by Gaff1229
Summary: Bob Kane's legendary urban hero retold in the Marvel Ultimate style. Third chapter removed to be redone.
1. A Night on the Town

Ultimate Batman - A Fan Fiction Serial by Gaff

This story and all others that follow it are a retelling of the life and times of the Batman, and have absolutely nothing to do with the established history of Batman as we know it. That said, don't bug me about continuity glitches. There is no continuity here. Batman was created by Bob Kane, not me. These stories are completely unauthorized and nobody should make any money off of them, not even me. Therefore, please don't sue me!

This is the start of an ongoing series which will retell the story of Batman in a whole new way. In the spirit of Marvel's Ultimate line, these stories are intended to portray the Batman in a new light, without forgetting the core elements of the character. There will be some new versions of old characters, sometimes to the point where they are not the same as the originals. But it will all be worth it.

Chapter 1 - A Night on the Town

Gotham City is one of the largest and wealthiest cities on the eastern seaboard. All the richest and most powerful industries resided here, amidst the massive towers and bright lights. Gotham was a place where dreams could come true, for those determined enough. It was considered by many to be the capital of the free world. But that all changed on one dark night.

"I'm so lucky," Bruce Wayne thought to himself as he and his parents rode to the movie theater. His mother and father were dressed in their finest evening wear, ready for a night on the town with their only son. Thomas Wayne was dressed in his tuxedo, and Martha Wayne was wearing a black dress with her favoirte pearl necklace. Bruce was glad to be able to have some time with them. His father was a wealthy surgeon, and considered one of the wealthiest men in all of Gotham City. Bruce's grandfather had been a captain of industry when the spires of Gotham were first built, and the Waynes were considered the city's first family. Thomas Wayne, on the other hand, found his calling as a doctor. Bruce's mother Martha, on the other hand, had been a fashion designer before she met Thomas. The press called her a trophy wife, but even Bruce knew better.

"Here is the Monolith Theater, sir," stated Alfred from the driver's seat. Alfred had been Thomas' butler and friend for many years, and was by far the family's most loyal servant. "Shall I take 'round back, or would you prefer to go in the front?"

"That's fine Alfred, we'll go in the front. In fact, why don't you take the night off? If the weather's this nice after the movie's over, we can take the subway back home."

Alfred smiled slightly. "Very good, sir."

Bruce and his parents climbed out of the car and walked up to the box office. The man behind the desk was watching the clock eagerly, but when Thomas Wayne approached, he snapped to attention. "Mr. Wayne! How are you tonight?" the ticket seller asked.

"Just fine, William. Three to see Zorro. Now, have you been staying off those steaks like I told you to? You know your heart can't handle the cholesterol." Thomas asked back. Bruce was so amazed. His dad must've known everyone in town!

The movie was great. Bruce was so eager to see it, but wouldn't go without his parents. They were always so busy with work, so it meant a lot to him when they were able to take a night off with him. Of course, Bruce understood how important his father's work was, but he didn't like being neglected, and they both knew it. Bruce never really got along so well with other children, so he didn't have very many friends. His parents were the most important people in his life, and they never took that for granted.

The movie was over. Everyone shuffled out of the movie theater. The Waynes stepped out and admired the night sky. Bruce still had half a bag of popcorn in hand. While he checked out the new posters, his parents had a chat.

"So Thomas, what does it look like?" Martha asked her husband and doctor.

Thomas smiled. "The word came back from Dr. Hand. You're pregnant again." Martha gasped with silent joy. She grabbed him and held him close. "He's betting it's a girl, but it's too soon to tell."

"Oh, Thomas! I love you! I'm so happy!"

"I love you, too, Martha."

"Do you think we should tell Bruce?"

The two looked over at their son with love and pride. He had picked up a pen and was fencing with the air. He was thinking back on Zorro's fight in the bar, and how he skillfully held off thirty men with just his sword.

"We'll tell him tomorrow. Right now, let's just savor the evening." Thomas smiled as he took a rose out of his jacket pocket and presented it to his wife. She sighed passionately as she took the rose from his hand and took in the sweet smell.

"Father, where's Alfred?" Bruce asked urgently.

Thomas and Martha regained their composure. "I told him to take the night off, Bruce. I thought we'd go for a walk together, just the three of us." Bruce smiled in relief. He'd forgotten about that, and was afraid they'd be stuck at the theater all night. The Waynes strolled out of the theater with Bruce between them and strolled down the street. There were no cars, and most of the city lights had gone out. Still, the city still seemed so warm to Bruce, as long as his parents were there. The three of them were so wrapped up in their own joy, they didn't even notice that they were being followed.

They walked a full three blocks from the theater, and now the Waynes were touring Park Row. Park Row was a very clean and prestigious place to live in Gotham City at that time. It was a very safe place to live. Bruce chewed on his popcorn, savoring the rich, buttery flavor. His mother wiped some of the crumbs from his mouth and he playfully squirmed away. Thomas chuckled a little bit at his son's evasion. But then he heard a sound, like footsteps. He stopped and turned slowly. Martha and Bruce followed his gaze and stopped dead.

Just outside of the street light's glow, there stood the figure of a man in a heavy coat. Bruce could not make out his face, but he noticed the man was grinning nervously.

Thomas and Bruce looked at him, and Martha turned her head around to another sound. There was another man right next to her. She didn't even hear him approach. The man had dirty, stale blonde hair and very pronounced stubble. He smiled as her eyes widened with fear. It thrilled him. Deciding on a course of action, he lunged forward, grasped Martha's pearl necklace tightly, and pulled. The necklace was strong, and didn't simply snap off as he had expected. He was throttling her around, trying to pull the necklace off as she gasped, shrieked, and struggled. Bruce stood back in terror. He watched the thief attack his mother, terrified and unsure of what to do.

Thomas snapped back to reality and lunged at the mugger. He shielded his wife with one arm and wrestled him with the other. Thomas was somewhat stronger than the mugger, and he desperately fumbled to tear himself away from them. His friend in the shadows reached inside his jacket and pulled something out. Bruce watched him as the object was brought into the light. It was the barrel of an old black revolver, and it shined in the dim light. Bruce cried out at the sight of it. His father turned his head at the sound, but it was too late. The dark man pulled the trigger slowly and BOOM!

Bruce felt the air shake and watched his fall back as he was struck through the chest by an unseen force. Bruce dropped his popcorn as his father fell to the ground, trying to call for help with his dying breath. Martha shrieked in horror and despair at the sight of her husband's body, still struggling with the necklace. The dark man shifted and pulled the trigger again. BOOM!

The shrieking stopped abruptly, and the pearl necklace broke apart. White pearls stained with blood fell as Martha Wayne hit the ground.

The two thugs froze. The remaining pearls dropped from the thief's hand as he turned to Bruce. Bruce felt something shake deep down inside of him as he looked down on the bodies of his parents. He wanted to speak, to call out their names, but the words died in his throat. He wanted to cry, louder and longer than he ever had before, but they wouldn't come out. He stood transfixed. He lifted his head slightly. The thief with the pearls was no longer smiling. He shook with fear, unsure of what to do. But the man in the shadows was oddly still, perhaps trying to decide whether or not to shoot the boy.

Finally, the thief stuttered and ran. Bruce looked up at the man in the darkness. He still held his gun out, but he removed his finger from the trigger. He crept away slowly and cautiously, drawing his gun back like a scorpion's stinger. Soon, Bruce was all alone. He reached up with one hand and touched his own face. There were specks of blood on it. He fell to his knees next to the bodies of his parents. He was alone now. Surrounded by blood, popcorn, and pearls. He would always be alone now.

The End.


	2. Turmoil

Ultimate Batman - A Fan Fiction Serial by Gaff

Chapter 2 - Turmoil

The Waynes are a very old family in Gotham City, and their roots went deep. The first Gotham Waynes built most of the city. For this alone, they are regarded as royalty among the city's elite. The prodigious career of Thomas Wayne made him a pioneer in the medical field, and Martha Wayne was a fashion designer who boasted the most profitable line of clothing in the country. It was then inevitable that their death drew the wealthiest men and women in Gotham City, to pay their respects to the Waynes and their only son, Bruce.

It rained the whole day during the wake at Wayne Manor and at the cemetery where they were laid to rest. Bruce stood silent for four days straight after that night. He spent hours listening to the mourners offer their words of comfort and sorrow while his father's butler Alfred Pennyworth stood by him. In all that time, Alfred did not believe that Bruce was even aware of them. The boy never so much as cried in all this time. He knew how much Bruce loved his mother and father, and his continued silence concerned him.

Alfred blamed himself for what had happened, in a way. True, Mr. Wayne had insisted that he take the night off, but that did not ease his guilt for spending the night at the pub. If he had stayed behind and driven them home, none of this would have happened. Perhaps Bruce blamed him for leaving them at the theater? Thomas and Martha Wayne were buried on the hill in Gotham cemetery, their tombstone was a monument. Bruce stood silently at the foot of the marble statue in the heavy rain when all others had left.

The two nights that followed were filled with lawyers, policemen, accountants, and piles of paperwork. Bruce Wayne had no living relatives, so he was placed under Alfred's custody until the age of twenty-one. Alfred had served under the Wayne family since Bruce's grandfather, and had been good friends with Thomas Wayne. He had an obligation to take care of Bruce, and Alfred was never the kind of man who shirked his responsibilities.

One week after the murder, things began to calm down. Alfred had sent off the last attorneys and started up the stairs to check up on Bruce. He still wasn't speaking, and there hadn't been a quiet moment since it happened. Alfred stepped up to Bruce's room door and knocked gently. Meeting with no reply, Alfred opened the door gently and looked around. All the lights were out, and Bruce was sitting quietly on his bed.

"Master Bruce," he said at last, "Are you alright, sir?" Alfred knew it was a stupid question, but what else could he say?

Bruce hardly moved in response. Alfred was beginning to think he was ill, but then he stood up and walked to the window. "They're dead. Mother and Father are dead. And the men responsible got away clean. They haven't been caught. No one else even saw them."

Alfred stood silent. He was certain that Bruce was punishing him for leaving them behind that night, until the boy spoke up once more.

"It was all my fault."

Alfred was absolutely stunned. "What did you say?"

Slowly, Bruce turned and looked the old butler straight in the eyes. "We almost didn't go. Father had an important business meeting, and he told me we couldn't go. I remember I was just so angry at him. He said before that he was taking us to see Zorro that night. He had made a promise and he was about to break it. I didn't care about what he had planned, all I could think about was what I wanted, what I expected of him. I didn't talk to him after that, and I didn't wait to hear him explain. I wanted to punish him for letting me down. I was only thinking of myself. He gave in and we went out like he promised. I was just too selfish. If I just let it go, they wouldn't have died. I killed them."

At first, Alfred was at a loss for words. "You did nothing of the sort. Mr. Wayne already blamed himself for that. I am sure he would have put his plans off in the end regardless."

"It doesn't matter now. My parents are dead, and for what? A few credit cards and a pearl necklace? Shot by some faceless thug for the crime of walking down the street at night? It doesn't matter how. They're gone, and I'm still here. I'm alone now."

Bruce left the room in a hurry. Alfred stood still, unsure if the boy really needed his company. He wanted to speak up, to tell the boy that he was wrong, and that he was not alone, but he was afraid.

Bruce flew out the door, cracking one of the glass doors on his way out. It was still raining heavily, but he didn't care about that anymore. He just wanted to get away. From the house, the men in suits, the memory. He wanted to forget his rage for the man who killed his parents. He wanted to escape the grief that welled up inside his heart. He just wanted to make it all go away.

In his mad dash, Bruce didn't notice the ground had weakened beneath his feet, and the heavy pounding of his tread was too much for the soil. In the middle of his step, the earth fell away and sucked the boy in. He reached out for something to break his fall, but caught only rainwater and mud. He fell, struggling against empty air, before landing on solid ground.

He felt the rough, cold stone against his face and hands before he pushed himself up. Bruce strained to see where he was, but there was not but one dim light, coming through the hole he'd entered. The rest was darkness. But Bruce could hear the sound of his fall echoing around him, and he realized that he'd fallen into an underground cavern.

He began to hear other sounds as well, from deep down underground, the likes of which he had never known before. Bruce could hear a thousand voices shrieking in terror and anguish. But they were not human. They were followed by a sound, like leather wings, rustling in the wind. It began deep underground, but then slowly grew louder and louder, and Bruce began to realize what it was he was hearing.

Bats. They began to swarm out from underground, first by tens, then millions came exploding from out the depths. Bruce threw his arms up to shield himself from them, but it was no good. His eyes were closed tightly, but he could feel them brushing against him, and he screamed in terror, hoping to drive them away with his voice.

The flapping stopped, and Bruce forced himself to open his eyes. The flock was gone, but there was still one bat, perched on a stone precipice right above him. It was facing Bruce, almost looking him square in the eyes, screeching urgently.

Bruce was scared for a moment, but only a moment. He could not describe his thoughts at that moment, but he knew, with an ominous clarity, what he had to do.

To be continued soon...

News

It seems my little story has accumulated popularity a bit sooner than I expected, and I haven't even gotten to the good parts yet. Naturally, I am happy about this, but there is one question I wanted to address. Some have commented that the differences from the original Batman aren't immediately apparent. I do feel obligated to remind everyone that it is difficult to improve on an already ultimate superhero. But rest assured, as the the series gets rolling, these differences will become much more apparent, especially as I start assembling the rogues gallery. Thanks for reading, and enjoy the upcoming chapters.

-Gaff


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